The Afflicted

By Sanga Chakraborty

Serpentine paths lead to uncertainty

The remnants ---

Destitution and poverty.

A pair of old eyes look up to the sky

What are they asking for?

Is it rain or Mercy

Or is it perhaps a sign?

Two little hands

Outstretched before uncaring glances,

Stained with filth,

A lost childhood and lost chances.

A face so serene,

Adorned with vermilion and bruises

Toiling, enduring,

Without even an expression that accuses.

Dream and desire

Diminishing every hour

Life…is but a strife endless

To exist through endurance.

By Sanga Chakraborty